


This Changes Nothing

by nochick_fics



Series: This Changes Nothing [1]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist (Anime 2003)
Genre: M/M, POV First Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-21
Updated: 2017-08-21
Packaged: 2018-12-18 04:21:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11866584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nochick_fics/pseuds/nochick_fics
Summary: Jean reflects on his arrangement with Roy.





	This Changes Nothing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Darth_Tantrum](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darth_Tantrum/gifts).



> Written in 2008, one of the only times I've ever written first person and one of my first *gasp* non-Roy/Ed fics (although there's still a hint of it because I wasn't completely ready to let them go yet, lol). :-)

He opens the door and my heart wants to stop. 

I  _really_  need to quit smoking.

He's...  _beautiful_ , this fucking man. Cold. A mystery, even to those of us who know him best. Then again, that’s just a part of his charm. The same charm that stole dozens of possible girlfriends from under my nose--not that I blame them. Why would anyone settle for a second-rate lieutenant like me when they could have a  _god_  instead?

I toss my cigarette to the ground and push my way inside. We don't waste time with words. If either of us speak, then we might see what we’re about to do for the mistake that it is... and  _has been_  since the first time.

So, no. Better to stay quiet. Just stay quiet and devour him. 

I slam him against the door and kiss him. There’s nothing gentle or tender about it. He gives as good as he gets and I’m already so hard I want to come in my pants. 

I can taste the liquor on him.  I’ve never kissed another smoker before… I wonder what I taste like?

We strip each other down and...  _fuck._   His body is incredible.  I want to get in him so badly right now that it hurts.  

I’ve never really been into men before, but this man… it’s different with him. It’s not about that. I would want to fuck him just as badly if he was a woman. 

Then again, for some strange reason, I’m glad he’s not. I’m glad that I can pull him down to the floor and take his cock into my mouth. I’m glad that I can suck him off. I  _like_  sucking him off. Does that make me queer? I don’t know. And right now, I don’t care.

He wants me to bend him over, but I don’t. I want to see his face. I want to see how he looks when I shove my way inside of him. 

He says my name before I can put it in him. Then he looks up at me with those fucking amazing eyes of his and says the one thing that always hurts just a little bit.

“This changes nothing.”

Yeah. I know. Nothing at all. I shouldn’t care. I don’t want to care. 

Only, somewhere along the way, I started to. 

I force my way into his body, watching his face twist in pain and pleasure. He makes a loud hissing sound…I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing; I'm not about to stop so it doesn't matter.  He wraps his legs high around my back and urges me on.  He doesn’t want me to be slow, so I’m not, even though we both know he won't be able to walk anytime soon after we're done.

God, he’s so fucking warm in there. Tight. I lean forward, thinking I might like to kiss him again… I  _want_  to kiss him again... but instead, I grab onto his shoulders and ram away at him. He doesn’t cry out like I want him to, but the way he trembles and moans beneath me is all the proof I need and I fuck away at his body as if my life depends on it. 

I can feel him throbbing and twitching against me right before he comes all over my stomach, grunting and gripping onto me for dear life. The sight of him under me, his head thrown back, trying not to make a sound as he’s getting off, gets  _me_  off, and I come so hard inside of him that I feel like my body is going to break.

He wraps his arms around me; I almost wish he wouldn’t. But since I can’t move just yet, I lie there on top of him and take it, trying not to believe that there is any meaning behind it. Because there isn’t.

I wonder sometimes if I could have been special to him. Other times, I have to wonder if being special in his eyes is really such a good thing.

Either way, I’ll never know…

_This changes nothing._

… because his heart already belongs to someone else. As for me, I’m just a convenient distraction until the one he really wants is a little bit older. 

Not that I'm complaining... much.

I pry my way out of his arms. No good can come from staying there. I use his shirt to clean both of us up and light us each a smoke. As far as I know, this is still the only time he’ll have one. 

We bullshit about work for a few minutes. I’m pretty sure he has no idea how he looks whenever he mentions the kid’s name. I’ll admit I’m not normally the sharpest guy around, but you’d have to be fucking blind not to see  _that_. 

When I’m done, I get dressed. I offer to help him, but he refuses. He always refuses. I swear, that man and his stubborn fucking pride....

I light up another smoke and head home.  I try not to think about any of it, because things will be back to normal tomorrow; we'll act as if this night, like all the other ones before it, never happened.

Until it happens again.

Like the man said, this changes nothing.

Still, sometimes… hell,  _most_  times… I kinda wish it did.


End file.
